


Long Gone

by DealingDearie



Category: Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:49:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DealingDearie/pseuds/DealingDearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigyn invites Sif to talk with her and they spend a few quiet moments thinking about the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Gone

Sif was mostly unaccustomed to company that wasn’t the Warriors Three and Thor, so when she got an invitation (sent by way of pigeon, a tiny piece of parchment strapped to its fragile-looking foot) to come and spend the day with Lady Sigyn, of all people, she was a bit wary.

It was old, worn news that Sigyn had been an old flame of Loki’s, a girl then more loyal than most of the citizens in Asgard, and Sif wondered if perhaps she still held affections for the traitor. It was that very suspicion that made her reluctant to be near Sigyn, and yet…

Loki was dead.

It hardly mattered now, and so she assented and went to meet Sigyn in the gardens once tended to by the queen, which housed dying plants that were hardly taken care of, wrinkling and shriveling in the sunlight.

Sigyn, standing next to the small fountain in the middle of the garden, a slow stream of water trickling gently out of the towering, climbing spout at the top, smiled as Sif approached her, a kindly gesture that lit up her features. She’d always been an odd sort, perhaps the only Asgardian with near silver hair, pale blonde strands falling past her shoulders and waving in the wind, her light eyes seeming almost white, though Sif knew they were just a very odd color of blue.

She’d met the woman long ago, in their adolescent years, when Loki had introduced them with a certain skip in his step, a permanent grin gracing his face. He had been freer then, and by the looks of things, so had Sigyn. She wore a silver dress that basked in the sun, billowing about her legs and hugging her slender waist, her long sleeves almost kissing the ground as she held out her hands in greeting, and Sif took them, her fingers wrapped warmly within the soft confines of Sigyn’s palms.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Sif,” Sigyn spoke softly, her lilting accent nearly lost to the rush of the wind as she smiled, and Sif’s ebony hair whipped about her face. She regretted not putting it up in a ponytail, but gritted her teeth in annoyance and managed a small smile.

It was so odd, seeing what time had done to the light in Sigyn’s eyes, what loss had done to her spirit, and she wondered if Sigyn was thinking the same of her. The woman gestured to the bench near them and Sif followed her to sit upon it, folding her hands in her lap as she struggled to find something to say.

“How are you?” Sigyn began instead, and Sif looked to her, smirking.

“I’m as fine as ever, I suppose,” she murmured warmly, glancing up at the sky and squinting against the midday sunlight, “Asgard has certainly seen worse than I have.”

It was a testament to Sigyn’s keen sense of perception that she caught the lurking meaning beneath the words, and she placed a careful hand on Sif’s own, frowning.

“Oh, I don’t believe that,” she breathed sadly, and Sif looked to her. She’d always reminded the warrior of Frigga, by her gentle mannerisms and subdued, amused nature, and it was like staring thousands of years into the past, as Frigga had been before her royal status. The pain of her death lingered in Sif’s mind and she shook her head sadly, sighing heavily.

“My friends are safe and well. I’m content, then.” Sigyn squeezed her fingers, and Sif swore she could see the grief in her soft gaze.

“Not all of them, though.”

Guilt washed over her, quickening her pulse and making her palms sweat, as she gazed at Sigyn forlornly, frowning. “He was hardly my friend, Sigyn.” But she remained staring, unblinking gaze more sympathetic than it was unnerving, her sad smile so mournful that Sif thought for a moment to wrap the woman in her embrace and pretend they were both children again, both oblivious to the world and free from their burdens. She sighed, remorseful.

“I’m sorry.” Sigyn laughed then, and Sif blinked in surprise, eyes flitting over Sigyn’s face to find the true meaning in her expression, but she came up empty.

“He made his own choices,” she said dismissively, but her voice was laced with sadness, and Sif laid her free hand on Sigyn’s, which still rested atop her own, and the goddess glanced over at her, eyes watery as she blinked tears away.

“But he is missed,” she whispered, and Sif squeezed her hand comfortingly, feeling just like a little girl again.

“That he is,” she returned reservedly, and she caught the glint of nostalgia in Sigyn’s gaze, the yearning for what once was, the desire for what could never again be.

It was an agonizing thing, to both see and feel, and Sif found herself wishing, too, for years now long lost in the pages of history books.

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt given by rodlox over on Tumblr.
> 
> Please R&R! Feedback of any kind is always appreciated! ;)
> 
> All rights go to their respective owners.


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